I'M NOT BRAGGING, BUT LOOK AT IT.
My intent isn't to sound overly egotistical, but I'm so proud of myself sometimes. Let me tell you about the first time I brimmed with pride. I'll never forget it. I was nine-years-old, and an optician told me, "You'll never be able to drive." The guy's lack of tact wasn't the most shocking thing about that afternoon, it's the fact I wept for two hours, then moved on, committing to never dwell on it again.
Sure, it's a shame I'll never be able to drive, and God help me if I ever move to LA (apparently, in LA, no car, no chance) but I've always understood the power of perspective. Yes, I'm incredibly short-sighted. Yes, my particular eye condition is not corrected by glasses. And yes, I won't be driving NASCAR anytime soon, but wow, I can see. just not really distant stuff. A blind person would trade places with me in a heartbeat, surely. This perspective has always been incredibly comforting for me, even as a nine-year old little brat.
A beautiful car is still in my future, though. You see, for as long as I can remember, my big brother has been a model big brother. Of course, as kids, we fought and argued like all siblings do, but I remember him interrupting his football match to run over and tie my shoe laces when I was six. I remember him making sure my experience at secondary school was super comfortable by telling his friends (the cool older kids) to always look out for me. I remember him getting me my first ever job, age 16. I remember him helping me complete the difficult paperwork to get me into university. I could go on, but no need.
Okay, just one more memory I need to share with you. For as long as I can remember, a classic Porsche 911, in black, with red seat belts, has been his dream car and for as long as I can remember, I've promised I'll buy him one one day, and I will. No amount of crappy eyesight will stop me.